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by CherFleur



Series: SGA drabble fic [5]
Category: Stargate - All Media Types, Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Atlantis Avatar - Freeform, Atlas - Freeform, Episode Related, Gen, Sentient Atlantis, Worldbuilding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-04
Updated: 2020-02-04
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,238
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22555072
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherFleur/pseuds/CherFleur
Summary: Comfort was something that Atlantis had been designed for. Ease of life.It was something that they freely gave, it was something that they had long sought.The fullness of the living brought something similar to them, and Atlas put everything they could into keeping these new ones safe and cared for.
Relationships: Atlantis & Athosians, Atlantis & Carson Beckett, Atlantis & Expedition
Series: SGA drabble fic [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1616983
Comments: 1
Kudos: 17





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**Author's Note:**

> Apparently there is another! Should I tag for canon divergence do you think? Things are definitely going to be changed, but nothing major just yet.
> 
> Let me know of grammar and typo issues!

They set down hot tea before the Descendant, platform rising to hold it from their main body as they did so. The night wasn’t particularly chill, but while Atlantis had once been able to control the climate and air pressure of the balconies, they didn’t have the power, and so the wind blew.

Carson looked so very tired.

He was not an elderly human, by Earth standards, but he was not young, and his compassion aged him where impassivity would not.

“Another dream, my friend?” Atlas queried softly, aching a little for this very caring doctor. “It is not your fault, you know this.”

“Aye, in m’head,” the man muttered, rubbing a hand over his face and curling his soft shoulders in underneath the blanket they had brought him. “But m’heart is another matter entirely, dearie.”

Humming in frequency with their larger shell, Atlas considered.

“Have you spoken with Teyla? Or perhaps Halling?”

“No desire to send me to see our resident mental health professional?” there was something almost amused in his tone. “Get my grief off my chest and another mantra in the mornin’?”

“If that were all that it takes to heal, then you would not be here,” Atlas chided softly, settling their hand on his shoulder. “But it would help to give you perspective in a way that I cannot.”

“And how’s that?” Carson frowned. “You’re a good friend, Atlas. Always giving a helping hand to those who don’ even think to ask for’t.”

Looking up at the night sky of the planet they’d been on for thousands of years, they contemplated. The children were aware that they were a part of the city, had seen Atlas merge with the walls and fixing systems that the scientists were flabbergasted by.

They did not think that this Descendant was ready for the truth of Atlas, of Atlantis. Not yet.

“I do not think as others do,” they settled for. “I am… a linear existence. I can anticipate how an action could hurt someone, how it could perhaps linger, but I cannot hold the past with me in such a way. I can feel sorrow, but regret does not overwhelm me.”

If it had, they would be crushed beneath the weight of countless files and instances where their Ones had died. Over and over and over and over and over and _it never ended_.

Atlantis always ended up alone, but to dread that time would be to never enjoy the present and anticipate the future.

It had been some time since the incident that haunted Carson had happened, and despite other trials, he could not move passed it.

“Hmm,” thick brows furrowed as the Scotsman picked up his tea and took a sip, sighing unconsciously at the heat. “We’ve people like that on Earth, too. Have trouble empathizing with things that happened in the past, ‘specially t’others,” he glanced down at the power cell that Atlas was idly repairing. “And they can’t seem to keep their hands still.”

Atlas tilted their head in amusement.

“I’m certain that there are similar things to myself on Earth,” SENTINEL 3 would enjoy bits of this conversation, they were sure. “But I still cannot help you to deal with the pain that the Hoffans have given you.”

His lips twitched down once again, before the doctor sighed and closed his eyes with a soft nod of acknowledgment.

“I’ll see about finding Halling in the mornin’,” a crooked, kind smile. “Teyla is grieving in her own way. That ordeal hit her hard, being on that planet.”

An empath present during a mass death? Yes, she was grieving.

Atlantis had been present at enough to know.

~*~

In preparation for the storm, Atlas was very busy.

Several key systems needed to be either repaired or shut down and partitioned from the main circuits so that they didn’t fry from the pulses. The towers were about as repaired as they could manage with current supplies and they had set down a data pad with the pertinent information on Radek’s desk that morning.

It should give them enough time to disconnect what they needed to and get into place the converters that had been stored away. When at full capacity Atlantis didn’t _need_ to convert weak electrical energy into something that they could use. They didn’t even need to put up shields or use the lightning rods because the ambient energy from when they were fully charged simply deflected the lightning.

Unfortunately, Atlantis was _not_ at capacity – hadn’t been since before the Third Ones abandoned them – and so Atlas was busy at work.

If their tagalongs would perhaps do so at least a _little_ bit less than they currently were, their efficiency would go up. Not that they didn’t enjoy the time they spent with their current entourage, but they _did_ hinder certain tasks.

“Atlas, can you not play?” Jinto asked with wide eyes, hanging off of one of Atlas’ arms, feet dangling. “We’ve been practicing our sense and we could _maybe_ find you!”

A difficult task, considering that Atlas was a process of Atlantis and was quite actually _everywhere._

“Yes, please, can we play, Atlas?” on their other arm, feet also dangling as the Platform walked, Bim encouraged. “We’ve been practicing activating the emergency beacons you gave us!”

“I do not have time to play this cycle,” they told the children, the few trailing behind chattering amongst themselves in hand speak and voices. “There is a great storm coming and I must prepare for it to minimize damage.”

Curious eyes widened.

“Oh.”

A moment of silence as the children dropped from their arms.

“Well, can we help?”

Atlas paused, considering, casting their gaze over the children staring up determinedly at them with earnest gazes and little lights pressing against the blaze that they were.

“Hmm.”

Well, there were perhaps…

“If you could make sure that the scientists eat and sleep in the coming days then I would be most grateful to you.”

“And after the storm, can we play?”

“After the storm,” they promised. “I will find a passageway to one of the learning areas and teach you how to use the toys there.”

The children cheered, and passing Marine smiled, ducking his head at the sound.

It was nice, to hear laughter amongst their walls.

Now, only to do what was necessary to keep those walls intact so that the children would have a safe space in which to grow.

~*~

“Wh-What are you kids doing in here?! How did you get access? Hey, what – oh, are those sandwiches?”

“Is that tea? Oh, oh, I hadn’t realized how thirsty I am!”

Rodney narrowed his eyes even as he shoved a grilled cheese into his mouth and sipped herbal tea, children milling about excitedly, as if assigned a mission. They were chattering amongst themselves and using that sign language that all Athosians seemed to use and was understood by most Pegasus Natives.

While he hadn’t seen them in a few days, oddly absent when normally they were a constant. He – she? Sometimes it was hard to tell if Atlas even _had_ a gender, and Rodney was enlightened enough to know that not everyone always _did_ – hadn’t been shoving food down his throat. Or sending him to bed with an arched brow and limitless patience that made Rodney feel like he was being mothered by an alien.

This had Atlas written _all_ over it.

“Sneaky, sneaky Athosians…”


End file.
